Penelope Garcia
by RyanKathrynCelia
Summary: An short introspective from Penelope one day before work. Complete.


Author: RyanKathrynCelia

First Published: 25.05.2012

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Criminal Minds etc.

Just a short insight into Penelope's mind one morning before work.

"But I can't turn back, my heart is fixed, my mind's made up, I'll never stop - my faith will see me through." – Jimmy Cliff

There were days that Penelope really disliked getting out of her bed. It was so warm and inviting, and she was sure that it mocked her whilst she was showering and fixing her hair, preparing to face whatever horrifying scenario that would be pushed their way that day.

Sitting at her vanity, she began applying her makeup. It was in these idle, in between moments that she would lose herself to her thoughts, sometimes she willingly took an adventure into her mind, and other days she would be forced in, to think about the things she would rather forget. Things like what human beings had the potential to do with each other, the devastation that they could inflict on each other. Sometimes she would think about her colleagues and the thought of them, and how they all worked so well together, how they had become a family rather than just work buddies. It was something that filled her with so much joy she thought she would explode with happiness.

She loved the out of hour's functions they went on, especially at the clubs when she got to admire the fine physique of Derek Morgan, or the playful interactions of Emily and JJ. She remembered fondly of the time where they met the guy that pretended to be an FBI agent, and the way the girls had played him all the way through until they revealed their own badges revealing him to be a fraud.

She was glad, she knew, that she wasn't an agent out in the field doing what her team did. She would never survive the inhumanity of the people that they dealt with, the lies and the misdeeds. The horror. She had been there, on some very rare occasions, but she openly would admit that she couldn't cope with that aspect of the job, and it was that feeling that made her love and respect her colleagues so much more. And, more than that, she respected how they managed to deal with the things they saw whilst they were out.

Playing with her hair she wondered what she would do if she had to spend more time in the field. She had hated the times that she had been there before, and was pleased that she didn't have an idyllic memory like Spencer. The nightmares that she had when they had returned from watching him be tortured had stayed with her months; even now she still had the occasional nightmare about the whole situation. Then there was Alaska. In some ways Alaska was worse than watching Spencer being tortured. She had felt someone else's life drain out of them whilst they were in her arms whilst she sat there with him, unable to do anything to help despite everything in her being screaming for her to do more.

Picking up the lipstick she reflected on why she put her makeup on each and every day before she headed into the office. The primer, the foundation, eye shadow it was all a mask, building up her layers before she faced her screens of images that people would usually see in horror films. It was like her layers of makeup would protect her from the injustice she witnessed daily through the medium of her computer screens and accessories.

She sighed as she put the makeup in various bags, tidying it away for another day, mask now firmly in place. Making a quick check to ensure her makeup was fine; she picked up the final piece of the mask – her glasses. Once they were on, she was Penelope Garcia, Technical Assistant for the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit, and not just Penelope, the girl who really liked to hang out online.

_Maybe I'll blog about this later_, she thought as she left her apartment, knowing that writing things down, even electronically, would be like giving a voice to accompany the one in her head, _I wonder what today will bring?_ She asked herself as she ensure the door was shut and made her way to work, to her colleagues, and more importantly, her family. 


End file.
